Timescapes: The Untold Stories
by Orohime
Summary: If you are familiar with J. 'Neon Dragon' Peffer's webcomic 'Timescapes,' then you are also familiar with the unpredictably psychotic demonprince, Kimuri.  This tale involves him.  Warning: Graphic Violence, Language and Situations. MA ONLY
1. Chapter 1 - Deadly Boredom

Disclaimer: All concepts from Timescapes Belong to Jessica 'Neon Dragon' Peffer. Check out her excelent artwork at !

Warning: This chapter contains severe gore, torture and mutilation, as well as unforgivably cheesy pick-up lines. A lot of them.

Chapter 1: Deadly Boredom

In the Shadowrealm, all was not peaceful. Well, things were never peaceful in the Shadowrealm, but at the moment things were even less so than usual. The circumstances, you see, were somewhat extenuating. What circumstances, you might ask? You would not like the answer if you were to ask such a question. Unfortunately for you, puny mortal, you shall be told, regardless.

Kimuri was bored.

Yes, you heard me right. Now, you may ask this: Who is Kimuri and why are you making his boredom out to be such a travesty? I answer this, unfortunate one. Kimuri is the younger son of Lord Darkness. Call him Heir to the Shadows, if you meet him. If you do you might not die slowly. You might be fortunate enough to die quickly. Then again, you might not. Flattering the Prince of Darkness' ego is a good plan, but it's not always sure. It's better to just avoid him altogether if possible.

Unfortunately, not everyone has the luxury of such avoidance. The servants, for example. And it is on these poor souls that Kimuri's boredom is the most trying. Do you really want to know? If you do you must be sick and depraved. But that's your problem not mine. Read on…

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Lord Darkness started and dropped his book as a piercing scream rang through his blackstone castle, shattering his concentration. Damn! His son must be awake. And it had been such a relaxing morning. He'd eaten a tasty breakfast of raw meat and single malt whiskey, taken a relaxing stroll down by the lavafall, and began perusing his new book, The Life and Times of Hannibal Lechter. Interesting man, Mr. Lechter. Very cultured, good taste, a plethora of wonderful recipes to his credit…

Lord Darkness made a point to enjoy his mornings, for Kimuri always rose around noon, and once his younger son was awake, peace was not to be found. The ruler of demons sighed and stood from his monstrous throne, resigned to seeing what unfortunate sap had attracted the boy's attention this time, and what he would have to pay the servant's union in recompense. Hopefully Kimuri wasn't using the good silverware again. After he'd developed that fetish for maiming his victims with spoons, Lord Darkness had been forced to insert a 'Death By Utensil' clause in the union charter. He'd tried hiding the silverware, but Kimuri had come across a box of plastic sporks left over from the last Doomsday picnic. The results of that fiasco had cost a small fortune, and taken the servants days to clean up. They never had found Bartholomus' left foot.

Lord Darkness followed the pained cries through dank corridors and into the basement. He wondered what his son was doing down here. Kimuri was a creature of indulgence and comfort. He rarely descended to the bowls of the castle, where rooms were used for storage and utility. He found out as he rounded a corner and came into a small room dominated by a workbench. Kimuri had discovered the repair-demon's workshop.

The repair-demon himself was stretched out on the workbench, his head held firmly in a large vice-grip. His ankles were tied to the bench with barbed wire and his left arm was held down with dozens of nails, looking as though it had been attacked by a rogue nail-gun, which it probably had. The right arm was mostly gone. Other parts of him were also missing and blood was everywhere. Tools were strewn carelessly across the floor. Standing over the poor demon was his tormentor.

Kimuri was tall and slender, with a delicate face and very long amethyst hair. Being a vain and proud creature, he took careful care of the silky mane. He'd been mistaken for a girl on occasion. Those who had made this error hadn't died for many, many agonizing days. Kimuri had nicknamed himself, in a fit of ego, 'Bringer of a Very Painful Death.' It was a title well earned, self-glorifying though it was. At present he was liberally splattered with his victim's lifeblood. In one hand he held a power drill and in the other was a manual of some sort. His large violet eyes scanned it intently.

"Lets see…'Drill holes in points A, D, and F'…" he read aloud. Without looking away from the manual he placed the tip of the drill on the repair-demon's kneecap and squeezed the trigger. The trapped creature released a blood-curdling shriek as the tool burrowed into the joint with a horrible grating sound.

"**_Kimuriiiii!!!!_**" roared Lord Darkness. His son didn't even flinch, instead looking up as he retracted the drill.

"Oh, hiyas pops," he said as a spurt of blood followed the drill tip and splattered his pale cheek. "Whatcha doin' down here?"

"I might ask the same of you! And how many times do I have to tell you, address me as Lord Darkness."

"I'm just learning how to fix things," replied the purple-haired teenager innocently as he picked up a hand saw and applied it to the repair-demon's left horn. Bone powder flew as he worked it vigorously back and forth. He gave that activity up quickly tough, as it elicited nothing but a groan from his 'project.' He left the saw stuck halfway through the horn and picked up a pair of needle-nose pliers instead.

"Why must you do this every day? Can't you maybe cut it down to twice a week? The union compensation is costing a fortune!"

"So, cancel their maternity coverage," suggested the young demon as he attempted to grip an eyeball with the pliers. The slippery orb evaded grasping though, and Kimuri settled for yanking out a few teeth to accompanying howls.

"Why would they no longer need their matern…" A very, very evil grin spread across the boy's face. "Never mind, I don't want to know. Whatever it is, I forbid you to do it again."

"Alright, then how about the dental plan?" said Kimuri, examining a molar.

"Damn it! Stop that!" thundered Lord Darkness. "You are hereby forbidden to use power tools! No, make that **_ANY_** tools!" Kimuri's eyes grew wide and his lower lip trembled.

"B-but, **_daddy_**…"

"I've told you! It's Lord Darkness, even to you!" reprimanded the frustrated father. He wasn't going to fall for Kimuri's teary-eyed act. That one didn't work any more. "Now, go to your room and stay there until dinner!"

"Yes, Oh Great and Mighty Lord Dorkness," said Kimuri with a pout as he slouched out of the room. Lord Darkness groaned at his son's insult, but it wasn't anything new. It was Kimuri's favorite joke.

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By suppertime Lord Darkness had softened toward his son again. He always did. Kimuri was his only living heir, and had always been his favorite. He was stronger than his older brother had been, a fact that played a large part in the fact the Kimuri was still alive and the other was not, sibling rivalry being a deadly business in the Shadowrealm. His strength also meant there was a strong chance the throne would stay in their bloodline for at least another generation. It generally went to whomever was strong enough to hold it. The current ruler had simply been Darkness until he usurped the position from the previous Lord.

Favorite or not, Lord Darkness knew that Kimuri's torture and dismemberment of the hired help had to stop. His most recent victim had barely survived and would be crippled for the rest of his life. Lord Darkness had paid a handsome sum to the repair-demon and his family in reparations. It wasn't really the loss of life or cruelty that Lord Darkness was bothered by. They were demons after all. It was the drain on the treasury that was the most disturbing part of his son's behavior.

He'd been trying to find a way to curb his son's bloodlust for some time now, but the answer hadn't come to him until that day. As he was walking to the repair-demon's home to personally deliver the reparations money, his path had taken him past the market and he'd realized that the average slave cost a quarter of the amount he was forced to pay out to the union workers on a daily basis. Even if Kimuri killed a slave a day he would be saving a bundle. Better yet, slaves were generally all from the Prime Material Plane, the world that rested between the Shadowrealm and the Old Kingdom. Who cared if humans got tortured and mutilated? And if demon-kin stopped receiving such harsh treatment in the home of the ruling family, the general populace's demeanor might become more favorable.

"Kimuri," he began as his son took his seat at the vast ironwood table. "I want you to…" He had to stop and sigh, for his son was paying no attention whatsoever, instead putting all his concentration into directing cheesy pick-up lines at Lord Darkness' closest advisor, an exquisitely beautiful demoness named Xenith.

"Have you got a mirror in your pocket?" he asked innocently.

"Shut up, you moron," replied Xenith coldly. Kimuri paid no attention to this, reinforcing his father's theory that the boy was selectively deaf.

"…'Cause I can see myself in your pants!"

"I'm not even wearing pants. This is clearly a dress."

"I like fire, and that's good, 'cause girl are you **_hot_**!"

"I like smart people, and that's good, 'cause **_man_** are you dumb."

"I'm like a rubix cube. The more you play with me the harder I get."

"Knock it off before I knock you out."

"You be the titanic, I'll be the iceburg and you can go down on me!"

"How about you cool your jets before I put **_you_** on ice."

"If I bit my lip would you kiss it better?"

"No."

"If I flip a coin, what are the chances of me getting head?"

"Zero to none."

"That means I'd get tail…"

"Chase your own tail, you dog."

"If I said you have a nice body, would you…"

**_SMACK!!_ **

Xenith picked up her plate and walked out of the room to dine elsewhere. It was always the same routine. Lord Darkness didn't even know why she bothered coming anymore. She could order the servants to serve her in her rooms.

"She wants me," said Kimuri with a leer as he picked himself off the floor. (**Random Fact**: Xenith is the only person who can strike Kimuri without being slowly roasted on a spit over a mesquite flame.)

"Of course, son, but listen," said Lord Darkness, seeing his chance to present the idea he'd come up with. "I am hereby forbidding you to ever torture, maim, mutilate, kill, hurt, harm or touch the servants in any way ever again."

"_**What?!**_" Kimuri's countenance turned ugly and Lord Darkness hastened to continue. He knew his son would someday take the throne from him, but he didn't want it to happen at that very moment, and his words were enough to instill mutiny in the boy.

"Instead," continued his father quickly. "I am going to set up an account with the slave master in the market. You may purchase one slave per day to have fun with, whichever catches your eye on that day, price no issue." Kimuri's face relaxed again as he considered this.

"Just one?"

"Yes, just one! You've managed to keep your dismemberment of the servants to one a day, I think you can control yourself with slaves as well."

"But overworlders are more fragile than demons," replied the purple-haired young demon. "They break more quickly."

"Look at it as a chance to refine and hone your techniques by learning to cause the maximum amount of pain with the minimum amount of damage."

"Okay," said Kimuri with a shrug. Lord Darkness breathed a silent sigh of relief. Thank badness the boy had gone along with it so easily. When he set his mind against an idea it took heaven and high lava to turn him around.

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The next year and a half were wonderful for Lord Darkness and the servants, for Kimuri took to the slave idea whole heartedly, and this satisfied him enough that he left everyone else alone. The drain on the treasury lessened to a bearable flow and the quality of household help increased as fear of working in the castle dissipated. However, just after Kimuri's 18th birthday, things changed once again. For better or for worse depends on who you ask.


	2. Chapter 2 - Wingless

Chapter 2: Wingless

"Ah, Heir to the Shadows, welcome! Welcome once again!" called McGormick, the slave dealer. "I've been eagerly awaiting you all morning!"

"You finally got that delayed shipment?" asked Kimuri as he strode into the plush anteroom. McGormick nodded enthusiastically and the young demon continued testily; "It's about time! The pickings were getting pretty slim and scraggly around here. The one I got yesterday barely lasted a few hours! Not satisfying at all!"

"Of course not, for a man of your discerning taste. Those rogues that supply us are so unreliable sometimes" soothed McGormick, his hands beginning to wring nervously. Kimuri's wrath was well known throughout the demon realm, and the pudgy demon was right to fear the Prince of Darkness's irritation even though he'd never seen it first hand. "You may find that the wait was worth while though, when you see the rare treasure they brought us this time. I've put it aside just for your eyes and shall only put it on display if you pass it by, though I doubt you will." His tone was far more confident now, and Kimuri perked with interest. He knew the scaly little imp wouldn't dare make such a statement without something he was sure would back it up.

"Fine, lets see it." He followed the red-skinned slave master through the display room where creatures of all descriptions were on display. Most were humans and animals from the prime material plane, though there were a few exotic selections from other planes farther away. They passed all the displays though, and entered a curtained doorway at the back of the room where a pair of burly bouncer-demons stood guard.

The violet-haired male was ushered into a gorgeous room with fine ebony and black-velvet furniture, set upon an exquisitely comfortable couch and offered a variety of refreshments as he waited for a large cage draped in black silk to be carried in by another pair of burly guards. Kimuri impatience was almost tangible as they settled the cage carefully on a platform and stepped to either side. McGormick wasted no time in flourishing the silken cover aside and Kimuri leaned forward eagerly to see.

"Eh? What is this?" he asked sagging back in disappointment. Within the cage was a humanoid male, bound securely at the wrist and elbow, ankle and knee. A gag stifled his mouth and a blindfold obscured his eyes. Both his raggedly cropped hair and his skin were gray in hue, giving him an unhealthy appearance. "It's just an old human." Kimuri's disappointment began to quickly give way to ire and it showed clearly in his expression. "No, no, not at all!" yammered the slave dealer hysterically, sweat springing instantly to his swarthy hide. "Turn the cage around you idiots! You've got it the wrong way! Turn it!" The guards hastened to comply and the prince realized why the pudgy imp was making such a big deal about the creature. Beneath the skin of the back existed an odd bone and muscle structure, and a pair of enormous ragged scars coursed down either side of it's spine. This creature had once possessed wings.

"Is that really…" he began in awe, rising slowly and drawing nearer the caged being.

"Yes, yes indeed Lord, an ancient. And what's more, it only looks old because in this dull light it's silver hair doesn't shine."

"Silver? Then this is a _noble_!" Glee was beginning to replace the awe of the sight in Kimuri's voice. The ancient race, as they styled themselves, was from the plane of Yulae, also known as the Old Kingdom, which lay directly on the other side of the Prime Material Plane from the Shadow Realm. They were polar opposites and the residents hated each other. The ancients came in two models, the commoners, which were uniformly blond, blue-eyed and white-winged, and the rarely seen nobles, which were uniformly silver-haired, golden-eyed and black-winged, and were much stronger than the lesser type. To have an ancient noble in his hands, wingless and unable to escape…

Kimuri suddenly frowned. "Why did you cut its wings off already? I would have loved to do that myself!" "Ah, it's not like that," replied the slave master hastily. "We don't know what happened to its wings. They were already off, which is the only reason anyone could catch the beastly creature. It took them many days and cost several hunters their lives to bring it down alive even without any extra appendages."

"Hmmm…" replied Kimuri looking closely at the area there should have been great, black-feathered wings sprouting from. "I guess you're right. Those scars are fully healed already. I wonder what happened to it? What could take off an ancient noble's wings?"

"No idea, though I'm sure my Lord or his Lordly father could accomplish such a feat if they wished."

"Well, whatever," said the dark prince, dismissing the conversation with a shrug. "I'll take it. Deliver it to the palace as usual."

"Of course, Lord," replied McGormick, bowing deeply partly out of fear, and partly to hide his gleeful smirk. He would make a small fortune from this one purchase alone.

At the palace Kimuri waited with barely contained excitement, pacing his lavishly furnished rooms in growing impatience. He knew that logically it would take at least an hour for the package to be delivered, but his anticipation of the enjoyment to come was so fierce he wanted it _now_!

With a groan he threw himself upon his decadent bed and tried to pass the time planning what torments he would inflict. The natives of Yulea were notoriously tough, even more hardy than demonkin. His new toy would be able to survive through punishments that would quickly kill a lesser creature. Thinking of the odd structure of it's back, he decided he would have to peel back the skin and investigate what sort of muscle and bone arrangement could power a set of enormous wings. His imaginings only became more gruesome from there.

These fantasies fed his excitement, and soon he was panting and sweating, not to mention so hard it hurt. He'd have to skull-fuck the corpse when he finished the creature off, but since he wanted it to last for a while, he would have to be content with more normal rape until he was willing to let it die. In the meanwhile, he was too worked up to wait until it arrived.

His clothes fell to the floor and were kicked into a corner for the servants to take care of. His hands slid down his stomach, nails dragging against the skin as he enjoyed the sensation of almost-pain. He wasn't much into foreplay though (in fact the word wasn't even part of his vocabulary) and he quickly got down to business, hands diving between his legs to grab and stroke himself, the pace growing frantic in mere moments. He climaxed with an abortive cry, then sank back against his pillows, feeling more relaxed. Masturbation wasn't nearly as fun or satisfying as forcing himself on some unwilling creature, but it would do for the moment.

Kimuri didn't bother to re-dress, so was still naked when the delivery was made. The carriers wisely made no comment on the demon prince's state of undress, nor the obvious signs of recent sexual activity. They weren't stupid. They simply set the cage down, removed the creature, and chained it up as per the buyer's instructions, then hoisted the empty container and returned to their place of employment with all haste.

Once he had locked the doors behind them, Kimuri's hands fell on a golden goblet and a stilleto blade. With the efficient motion of the practiced, he poked a small hole in the creature's aorta. The creature didn't even flinch. The pressure release splattered him a bit, but the resulting flow quickly filled his cup. As he sipped his beverage he watched the wound quickly shrink and close, ceasing the crimson rush and leaving no discernible scar.

"Amazing healing rate," he murmured, taking another mouthful and rolling it pleasurably across his tongue before swallowing. The ancient's blood had smokey qualities and an unfamiliar spiciness. It was hotter than he expected it to be, even considering the cup was ensorceled to keep it's contents their original temperature. It was less metallic than human blood, smoother than demonkin, and also thinner than both.

It was delicious.

This was the first time Kimuri had tasted ancient blood. Tales abounded from the times when their realms were constantly at war, of the delights of ancient blood, and now the young prince understood why. A true delicacy. The tales also claimed that the blood of a Yulean had an intoxicating effect, different from any liquor or herb. He was interested to see the veracity of these claims. How delightful if they were true. Perhaps he would keep the creature alive and harvest it's blood. He could bottle it and give it to favored nobles, serve it at parties…

Kimuri jumped slightly at the sound of movement. The ancient had shifted, causing his chains to rattle. The prince realized at that moment that he had been staring silently into space, lost in his own imaginings for several minutes. How unlike him. His head felt…not light, exactly, but as though a sheet of silk had fallen over his mind.

With the Prince of Darkness still for so long, the blindfolded creature could not tell where he was or what he was doing, or even if he remained in the room. He was turning his head this way and that, trying to hear some small sound that would give him a clue.

Kimuri reached out and hooked a finger beneath the blindfold. The wingless male froze the moment he was touched. He jerked the cloth away and the ancient's eyes blinked open and fixed on his captor. In the ruddy light of the fireplace, they burned a deep amber, like the mad eyes of a goshawk. His skin and hair were rudy in the firelight as well.

Curious, Kimuri used his magic to summon a ball of pure white light. Beneath that revealing flame the skin turned porcelain, and the cold gleam of silver and gold shone from hair and eyes, like one of the tasteless, expensive statues that adorned the castle's inerior. The Dark Prince liked that. It was like his new pet's appearance glorified his status. He tangled his fingers in the rough-cut silver locks and forced the creature's head back farther, leaning in for a better view of those magnificent golden orbs.

"Those eyes would look lovely in a jar of preservative," he murmured. The Yulean showed not a trace of reaction to this statement. Kimuri wondered if he even understood the language. No human slave he'd bought had spoken demonkin, but ancients were altogether different from the frail, short-lived species of the Prime Material Plane. Ancients, like the demonkin, were immortal as far as aging went. They could be killed, but only by sufficiently harming their bodies, which were both resistant to damage and highly regenerative.

"Shall I remove your eyes?" continued the dark prince. Unconciously, his hands began to roam across the smooth alabaster flesh. "You don't really need them to survive and give me your blood, and it would serve to hinder any escape attempt." His hands slid over the broad shoulders and down the back, where they encountered the ropey scars, the only flaws in that perfect skin. "I doubt it will hurt as much as losing your wings," the prince mused, then stopped as the golden eyes flashed with anger. "Oh, so you do understand me. How lovely." He dug his nails into the healed wounds. "This makes you angry does it? Well yes, of course it would. How did that happen I wonder? Would you tell me if I let your tongue loose?" The eyes narrowed, and Kimuri was about to draw back and slap his pet for insolence when the silver-crowned head slowly nodded.

Kimuri unfastened the gag and pulled it from the ancient's mouth. The creature coughed once, swallowed a few times and licked his lips, bringing his mouth back into working order. Kimuri waited for him to finish in an uncharacteristic show of patience. The dark prince was usually in no way tolerant of those who made him wait for even the shortest length of time, but the effects of his pet's blood, coupled with the lingering contentment of orgasm had mellowed his mood somewhat. When the ancient spoke it was in the tongue of the Shadow Realm.

"What is your name?"

Quick as a snake Kimuri struck, his open palm connecting with the Yulean's cheek so hard his head snapped to the side and the prince's palm stung.

"I did not give you leave to ask questions!" he snarled, catching his pet's chin in an iron grip and yanking his head back around to make eye contact. "_I_ ask the questions, you _answer_. Is this understood?"

"Yes, Master," replied the golden-eyed male as a crimson handprint slowly bloomed on his face. Though his tone actually sounded submissive enough to appease, his eyes remained neutral, neither defiant or cowed. In a way, Kimuri was pleased. It meant his new toy would not break too easily. Listening to a victim beg was much more satisfying if it took real effort to bring them to that point. The Prince of Darkness, being a master of all forms of torture, had long been without a challenge.

"Now, how did you lose your wings?" asked Kimuri again, settling himself with his goblet on a plush divan.

"They were cut off by my own people," replied the ancient.

"Your own people?" repeated Kimuri a bit incredulously. That answered the question of what could take an ancient's wings: another ancient. "Why?"

"Defeatherment and banishment were the punishments deemed most fitting for my crimes."

"And what crimes were those?" asked Kimuri with intrigue.

"Murder."

"You killed your own kind?"

"Yes, many."

"How many?"

"47 over the course of twelve centuries, though only my last was know to be my hand."

"Why?"

"I was High Lord Corvais' most trusted assassin. I was ordered to."

"Corvais!" hissed the demonkin. He recognized the name. The long-standing ruler of Yulea, Corvais was a hated name in the Shadowrealm. He had personally led many attacks on his enemy's realm during the great wars. His prowess in battle and cruel efficiency were well known and admired, but hated all the same. "So the high-and-mighty Lord of Yulea isn't so squeaky-clean after all…" mused Kimuri. An interesting notion. "You're angry that they punished you," he continued, re-focusing on the topic at hand. "Why, if you acknowledge that you did wrong by your own laws?"

"Corvais swore I would be protected. I served him faithfully for twelve-hundred years and he threw me to the wolves, set me up to take a fall he promised he would spare me from. He betrayed me!" The ancient fairly spat the words and the flare of rage made his eyes seem to glow with malevolence. The sight sent a spike of desire sizzling down Kimuri's nerves. His physiological response must have been fairly strong, because the ancient's eyes flicked to the resulting movement, then he moved forward swiftly and far more smoothly than he should have been able to encumbered by his shackles.

The divan was well within the range of the chains, and before the young prince could react the creature slid between his legs and pushed him backward to lay across the divan. Even as the demonkin began to struggle the silver head dipped and his lips came in contact with his captor's member. Kimuri grabbed at the hair, ready to yank the creature's head away, but stopped frozen as the sensation hit him. The Dark Prince had never actually tried this sort of sexual contact, despite having working knowledge of it. He was more than a little leery of allowing anything's teeth near his manhood, and _he_ certainly wasn't going to put someone else's penis in his own mouth. He had expected the ancient to bite. He had certainly not expected whatever it was doing with it's tongue.

The demon prince moaned and thrust forward with his hips, shoving down with his hand, pushing himself further into that hot, wet mouth. The ancient obligingly took it all, opening his throat and letting Kimuri's swollen cock slide smoothly down, all the while undulating his tongue along the length of the underside, lips forming a tight ring. The oral service lasted a good bit longer than his masturbation session an hour earlier. It was extremely pleasureful, and the ancient skillfully kept him just below the edge of climax, teasing him with the promise until he literally demanded his orgasm.

"D-damnit," he hissed breathlessly, looking down at the top of the silver head. "Stop teasing, I want to come _now_!" The Yulean peeked up at him through long eyelashes, then obligingly sucked, _hard_. Kimuri's breath caught as the pleasure in his loins spiked violently. He spasmed, arched, shouted. It was so intense he blacked out.

The Heir to the Shadows woke with a start to the sound of someone banging on his door.

"Kimuriiiiii!" roared his father's voice over the pounding. "Unlock this door this instant!"

Kimuri sat up and looked around, startled. He didn't remember falling asleep and…

Oh, right. The ancient had done that exquisite thing with his mouth and Dark Prince had passed out when he was finished. The creature in question was sitting cross-legged with his back against the wall, watching his captor impassively. Kimuri rose with a groan, wondering what his father could possibly be so angry about. He was feeling way too relaxed and sated to want to deal with his father's bullshit. Not bothering with a robe he crossed to the door and disengaged the locks, opened it and allowed Lord Darkness entrance to his chambers.

"What's so damn urgent it couldn't wait 'til dinner, pops," asked the violet-haired demon, irritably.

"This! This!" howled his his father, brandishing a piece of paper, his fury evident in that he didn't even bother correcting his son's form of address. Kimuri snatched the paper and read it. It was the bill from McGormick for his newest acquisition.

"So?"

"How many slaves did you buy today, the entire market?!"

"No, just one, as always," he replied, tossing the bill carelessly aside.

"ONE?! WHAT KIND OF SLAVE COSTS THAT MUCH!?"

"A Yulean," replied Kimuri nonchalantly, though he was secretly waiting gleefully for his father's reaction to that statement.

"NO SINGLE SLAVE COSTS- wait, a what?"

"Yup," replied Kimuri with a smug grin. He almost wished his father's face wasn't so deeply shrouded in shadow. He would have enjoyed the dumbstruck look that was surely pasted across it at that moment. "And what's more, it's a _noble_." He jerked his chin towards the creature, who had assumed a more submissive posture during the confrontation, kneeling instead of leaning against the wall, eyes directed obediently at the floor.

"Impossible," muttered Lord Darkness and he moved closer to examine the creature. He circled it, forced it's face up to look in it's eyes, examined the scarred back carefully. "Impossible," he stated again. "This has to be a clever fakery. You were taken in, son."

"Nope," denied Kimuri cheerfully. To prove his point he retrieved the blade and an empty glass and filled it with his pet's blood. "Try it," he said handing the delicacy to his Lordly father. "You were alive during the wars, you know what ancient blood tastes like. If this _isn't_ ancient blood…well, I don't know _what_ it could be, but it's still marvelous."

Lord darkness accepted the goblet, sniffed it dubiously, then brought it to his lips and let the liquid touch the tip of his forked tongue. He straightened immediately, staring into the crimson depths of the liquid incredulously. Without any further hesitation he knocked back the entire cup.

"Well, I'll be blessed…it's the real thing alright," he said in wonder, turning his gaze back to the kneeling male. "I can't imagine how they brought it to bay though."

"It had already been de-winged," replied Kimuri, retrieving his own beverage, which was still fresh thanks to the enscorcled cup. "McGormick claims thats the only reason they caught it in the first place. I'll be keeping it alive, and if you're that concerned about how much it cost, we can recover those funds by selling it's blood to our nobles. Release bottles in a limited quantity, at limited intervals to keep the demand high, and they'll pay through the nose for the privilege. We could even make a profit," he suggested with a raised eyebrow. "I'm surprised McGormick didn't think of it himself." He paused and considered. "Maybe he did, but didn't dare withhold it. I'm sure he's aware that if I'd found out he had an ancient he declined to offer me, his punishment would be severe." An understatement, but it served it's purpose.

"Yes, well, I suppose I overreacted," admitted Lord Darkness grudgingly. "A wise acquisition, son." He turned to leave, but paused in the door. "Perhaps you could bring a small decanter to dinner."

"Of course," murmured Kimuri. Satisfied, Lord Darkness retreated and Kimuri secured his door again. "Well, that went better than I expected," said the prince as he turned back to his pet. "I half expected him to try to confiscate you from me. I would have had to take the throne earlier than I wanted, but, well…some things one just doesn't stand for. Thankfully, father isn't a fool."

"Kimuri." The prince straightened like he'd been stung and stared incredulously at his toy. "That is your name?"

"Presumptuous, insolent creature!" snapped Kimuri. "That is Master Kimuri to you!"

"I apologize, Master Kimuri," murmured the ancient. Once again, the tone of voice, and even the posture were perfectly submissive, but there was no trace of submission in the golden eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure you're just mortified," grouched Kimuri, flopping onto the divan again. "You're far too brazen for your own good. That stunt you pulled earlier for instance…"

"You didn't like it?"

"That's not the point!"

"I see. You didn't _ask_ for it," replied the ancient, unfazed by the demonkin's pique. "From your initial reaction, am I safe in assuming that was the first time you allowed anyone to do that to you?" Kimuri just harumphed, unwilling to admit any kind of inexperience. "You don't trust anyone enough, is that it?"

"Of course not. This is the Shadow Realm. Trust gets you maimed or killed here. Just ask my brother. Oh wait, you can't. He's _dead_. Incidentally, it's because he was stupid enough to trust _me_," he added with a feral grin.

"What if I guaranteed you could trust me?" Kimuri laughed, a short sharp bark of incredulity.

"I'd call _you_ stupid, as well as a _liar_."

"If I gave you a Binding Oath?" Kimuri went still. This didn't make any sense.

"What are you getting at exactly?"

"I will swear to serve you with all of my being, without condition, if you promise me something in return."

"You're not in a position to bargain," replied Kimuri with some amusement, though he knew that wasn't entirely true. A Binding Oath was a powerful thing. It could only strengthen his position in the Shadow Realm to have a Yulean so bound to him. The ancient had been very cunning to lay that temptation on the table. It could only be given willingly. The Old Magic would not Bind to a forced Oath.

"I suppose not, but perhaps you would grace me by hearing me out." Kimuri shrugged and motioned for him to continue. "There is a great deal of knowledge in my head, of the Old Kingdom's strengths and weaknesses, it's defensive forces, secret ways in and out of the Realm, as well as its cities. If an ambitious Shadow-realmer were to utilize this information for his own benefit, perhaps to bring down Lord Corvais, I would hardly be upset."

"You want revenge," said Kimuri in delight. This was something he could identify with.

"Of course!" spat the ancient, that lovely rage flashing in his eyes again. "I wasn't just Corvais' prime assassin. Behind his wife's back, I was also his lover. I was spurned, in more ways than one. I would see him pay."

"Hmm, well, you know, I could just torture that information out of you," proffered Kimuri, more to keep the creature off-balance than because he really thought that was preferable. While the torture part would be fun, it wasn't anything he couldn't get elsewhere, and the Binding Oath was far more valuable than a cheap thrill. He didn't like letting anyone have an upper-hand on him though.

"I will not offer you anything that way," replied the ancient stolidly. "I have been conditioned to resist torture."

"What if I let _kigruuks_ slowly eat your appendages from the fingers and toes up, how long do you think you could resist that?" snarled Kimuri, put-out at having his pain-bringing skills challenged.

"Go ahead," the ancient snarled back, showing his first true defiance. "The _only_ thing that has kept me from taking my own life is a dream of _revenge_, and _no_ pain is greater than having my wings, the very essence of my being, _torn_ from me!"

Kimuri sat silently regarding the ancient for a long while. The ancient said nothing, simply staring back, once again with that perfectly impassive mask.

"What is your name," the Dark Prince asked finally. The ancient appeared slightly surprised by this sudden question, but he replied readily enough.

"I am called Sil."

"Sil," murmured Kimuri, gazing into his glass and swirling the dregs of his beverage about in the bottom. Finally he looked up and smirked. "Alright, Sil, you have a deal. I'll give that promise, _and_ receive that oath."


End file.
